


remembrance (time is limited, but love is endless)

by snortingmaiko



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memories, Sad, my take on what happened after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snortingmaiko/pseuds/snortingmaiko
Summary: A flick of the wrist. Each stroke is slow and precise. A bright blue fades into purple. A once empty canvas is suddenly so colorful. And then, nothing. Life is just a small, beautiful story -- slowly being painted until death succumbs. But in the meantime, let's bask in the joys. Let's reminisce and remember the good times.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	remembrance (time is limited, but love is endless)

**Author's Note:**

> written for mj.
> 
> authors note: I've been writing this for the past few weeks, and I'm looking back realizing how emotionally attached I've gotten to this piece. It's very messy to be honest. And yet, I'm really proud of it. There are a lot of time skips, and I admit it's not perfect. In fact, my writing style is all over the place and very confusing at times. Nontheless, I really hope that while you read, you can understand the message I'm trying to send. This fic is about loss and pain, but it's also about what you learn from that. Enjoy.

Colors are flashing everyone, spurting hues of recollection across the walls. I dig my nails into my head, pain stinging my scalp. I’m shaking back and forth as the fluorescent lights of my room fade from one color to another. The colors melt into each other, becoming one with one another. The memories combine and become blurry — and I can’t tell them apart anymore. It’s all messy and vague until the light flashes again and a new color appears. Each flash makes me think of him. Each flash floods me with an unbearably brash stab. Red. It feels as though all the air from within my lungs was sucked out and replaced with a toxic, deadly poison — all while the world caves in around me. Black. My leg is bouncing up and down, reckless and erratic. The speed at which it trembles scares me, as if my body is moving so carelessly, yet so quickly that I’m monstrous. Green. My teeth scraping against each other, a thump coming from them each second more that I breathe. White. I close my eyes, flushes of terror stream down my face. I cover my eyes because closing them isn’t enough — because this isn’t something you can just shake off. Because he’s not someone you can just shake off. Blue. 

  
  


His color, it was blue. 

  
  
  


_ Dear Keith,  _

_ It’s been forever -- at least it feels as though it’s been an eternity since I’ve last seen you. I don’t think I could ever get tired of seeing you. I wish I could see you right now, while you’re reading this. I wish I could see what your face looks like - if you’re smiling, laughing, sad even. I want to see you. I miss you. Why haven’t you called? Why haven’t you written? You promised me you wouldn’t let this happen. You promised me you wouldn’t do this. I should’ve known -- should’ve known that me going back to Earth would allow you to just neglect us. I should’ve known that you’d just push aside everything. Did it even matter to you? Did it even mean anything? Do I even mean anything to you? Or was it all just -- nothing. Like oblivion. Just nothing — a dark and murky sky, lacking of any stars. Not even one shines, because there are none. Because they are nothing. Because maybe — maybe I’m nothing. At least, I know that I’m nothing to you. But Keith, Keith Kogane, you’re something to me. You’re everything to me. You’re my stars in the dark night sky. Everyone else always says you’re dark and brooding, that you darken the mood and bring the night. But to me, you’re not the night but rather, you’re the stars to light up the night. You’re what I close my eyes to every night, letting each star I count remorse at our memories. I try to remember your touch. Actually, I try to just picture your face, but it’s all blurry and vague. I look at pictures of you — of us. The polaroids. The ones we took together -- when we were still traveling the galaxies together. I remember my words exactly, how I said that we should take pictures now so that we could remember later. I question if maybe a small part of me knew this would happen — that we’d end up apart again. I think that deep down, I knew that the moments we experienced together, all of the beautiful memories, were limited. I knew that the love and emotions I was experiencing weren’t going to last. After all, how could something so beautifully, incredible be for me? It’d be selfish and unfair for me to live a life so great — a life with you. And I know it now just as I knew it then. So Keith, for the last time I’m writing. I’m going to quit bothering you from now on — I’m going to let go of us, all this. I’ll always cherish our memories — I’ll always, always love you, Keith. But I’m letting go, I’m going to try and move on. I’ve realized that by now, at this point, you probably have moved on too. You’ve probably already found someone else and so there’s just no point responding to my letters. And I understand. It’s okay. All I hope, all I care, is that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you happy enough. I love you Keith — so very much. Always and forever. Goodbye.  _

_ -Lance _

  
  
  


————————————

“Keith? Keith, are you okay? Open the door, please — please Keith. We’re here for you,” Shiro consoles, he knocks on my door gently, and in the light patter I can feel a tingle of concern.

“Just go away. Just go. Leave me like how he left me,” I yell, my voice is hasty and cruel — and I almost feel bad for talking to Shiro like this. But Shiro doesn’t understand — he’ll probably never understand. And honestly, I hope he never has to, because this pain is unbearable. All warmth from my life has just, entirely disintegrated - there is nothing but cold, dark, endless pain. The hurt consumes me and I don’t feel myself — because how can I be myself without him?

_ “We’re always and forever, Keith. Always and forever.” _

_ “You think so? You really think?” _

_ “Of course. I’m here for you.” _

_ I remember my hands trembled and I whispered back, “I love you, my star boy.” _

_ ——————————— _

I loved him. I love him. I left him. He left me. And now,

  
  


he’s dead.

  
  
  


It’s a snowy white winter on Earth. The time when all spirits are festive and happy — joy is just gushing from person to person. Confessions of love and admirance are flustering around, lighting up faces and sprinkling flakes of youth back into the world. Seemingly, it’s a beautiful time. Not just the people, not just the weather, but the memories. The nostalgia.

  
  


_ “God, I’d never thought that I live to be this old. I always thought I’d die by the time I hit 20,” I scoff, ruffling my fingers through the dark bits of tangled hair on my head.  _

_ “You’re not even that old, Keith. You’re only 21 and there’s so much you haven’t seen. I-I’m sure it’s just,” he pauses, trying to find the words but instead of continuing, he just laughs. “It’s all beautiful. Life. You’re gonna live a beautiful life, leave behind a beautiful story — I just know. You’re special.” _

_ I stay quiet for a minute, watching him from the slightest angle as he sits on a park bench, watching the stars. Behind us, a murky green tree peaks above all the small mom & pop shops. The ornamental orbs that line the tree glimmer under the sparkle of the stars and they mirror flashes of color all across the area around them. Lance sits there with a rainbow dancing on his face. The cold compress of a rusted metal bench stings a bit; I huddle close, seeking out comfort, seeking out warmth. And I smile, reaching my hand out to hold his — and for a moment, the world quiets as he whispers, “I hope I remember this forever. It’s just, so beautiful.” He blinks, turning to face me, and I can see the shine of tears hide in his piercing blue eyes. I open my mouth to say something, but stop as he pulls my face towards his and we encase into a gentle, loving kiss. It was such a beautiful moment. So very, very beautiful. _

———————

I had been looking forward to December. It was next month, and I had planned to go and visit Lance for the first time in years. Ever since all of the fighting and traveling ended - things between us drifted. And not just Lance and I, but the entire crew. Hunk was back with his family and Lance had bought a small apartment outside of the city. I don’t really know what happened with Pidge, and Allura, well I just don’t talk about her anymore. None of us do. I stayed with Lance for a little while, a few months I think it was — it’s hard to remember at this point, it’s just, so vague. After that, I decided to go back and travel the galaxies for a little while — but Lance wasn’t as willing. He didn’t want to go into space for a long while and I knew it, I understood. I didn’t want to force him to come with me either. Lance had a job, a place to stay, a stable income — and life was going nice for him. It was different for me, though. I didn’t have a big happy family to fall back on — at least not a functioning one. It was also a lot harder for me to find work, and I couldn’t seem to keep any jobs. I tried different things but nothing stuck. After the war, I just felt empty. Nothing felt right, but at the same time I felt nothing at all. I thought traveling the galaxies could help — that maybe I’d left behind a small piece of myself behind on one of the small planets I’d visited. But I got bored of the traveling quickly; It only brought back memories of the friends I’d lost. And I didn’t want to remember. I came back to Earth and realized I didn’t have anywhere to go. I never once reached out to Lance — I don’t know why not. I think, I think that maybe I felt embarrassed or guilty in a way. Guilty that I was such a loser compared to Lance. I was weighing him down all the time; I didn’t even have my own place to stay or source of income. I couldn’t even keep a job for more than a few months. So, I called Shiro. He let me stay with him and his boyfriend. They had a small apartment in the city with a guest room. It was okay.

———————————

Lance eventually got news that I was back on Earth. He texted. And called. I remember I had just ignored him, blocking his number. I don’t know what happened to me, I was just out of it. I still am. Shiro tried telling me that I needed to get help, but at the same time maybe I imagined that. At that point, I was struggling to remember what had actually happened and what hadn’t — I had jumbled everything I knew together in an effort to forget all of the pain and trauma of being a part of the Paladins. What we did — what we scarified, it was so much. I’ll likely never be the same person again. Sometimes, I wish that what happened to Allura happened to me. Now, I wish that what happened to Lance could happen to me. Why would something so horrible happen to such amazing people? They didn’t deserve it. But maybe, I do.

–––––––––––––––––––

  
  


_ Balance. Peace. Perfection — that’s the word. Perfection. This moment was pure, natural, beautiful perfection. A light sizzle of crisp bacon crackling on the stove at one of the many mom & pop’s shops that were crannied on the avenue. A short man with a black, stubbled beard wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead and cracked two eggs onto the stove, being careful to not break the yolk. Each action was precise and meaningful -- life had true purpose. Giggles erupted in the back of the shop, couples were huddling close in the booths, sipping steaming hot chocolate. Holiday melodies chimed on the radio and a light static clouded over them. Lance and I held hands, smiling as we watched the man cook our food. It was a late night — dark and few stars shone in the sky, but that was okay, I had Lance with me. My body felt light and I was completely consumed in the moment. I took in my surroundings so deeply — I tried to encase into it all as indepthly as I could. Each movement, every detail, even the small things like the minute crack in the glass of the window we sat by. Or how the booth we sat on was peeling up a bit on the edge, the red leather dampered and splotchy. It was comforting — the old, small town feel, yet we were in a big city. We were just two tiny people in a big city, a big planet, and a vast galaxy. This moment was so insignificant in the eyes of the world, but it was everything to me. He was everything to me.  _

_ “I love you” _

_ “I love you, too.” _

——————————————

Shiro was beating on the door at this point. I didn’t know how long it’d been — maybe a few hours, a few days even. A lifetime. At least, it felt like one. I’d locked myself in here when I found out what happened, when Shiro broke the news of Lance’s death. And everything became so clear, I remembered everything — but it was too late. Only a few days ago everything had been so blurry, each memory, each moment. Now, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the small buzz from the AC unit and everything would rush back. Structures would form around me, filterized and pigmented. The light patter of rain or snow, sometimes with the voices of strangers echoing in the back. Smells and feelings rushed in: pumpkin cake, chocolate, a hot latte. But above it all, the highlight of everything… was him. Lance. Amongst it all, stood out Lance. Each time I blinked, the image of him became nearer and I heard our voices, our very words ring back.

  
_ “Always and forever, Keith.” _

_ “I love you.” _

_ “You’re everything to me.” _

_ “I don’t care, as long as you’re here.” _

_ “It’s okay.” _

_ “I’m here for you.” _

_ “I’m going to let go of us, all this.” _

  
  


_ Deep breaths, the small movements from his adams apple as he spoke, the light twitch of his right hand. His eyes drooped heavy and he smiled the cheeky smile he always did. He lifted a hand to run through his effortlessly, wavy brown hair, and he winked at me, a twinkle twinging especially in his right eye.  _

I step closer, towards this memory. I see Lance, he’s so close. He’s right there. He’s there and he’s smiling and then he’s gone. Because he’s dead. 

_ His laugh ringing in my ears, his hand caressing mine, and a smile on both our faces. A spring day when all is cheery, the air smells pretty — the smell of rain but not rain while it’s raining, rain after it fleshed onto the wood of a forest and seeped there for hours. The leaves aren’t wet but they aren’t dry — the weather is chilly but starting to warm up. The sun peers above as it just passed the wall of clouds. I’d say life is still — because I am content, but in reality, life is so rushed. Each moment is so loud and colorful. Voices and feelings, the lightest brushes against my senses. It’s as if moments are a simulation and that simulation is life. It’s like I closed my eyes and fell back into a body of murky, aqua-tinted water — an oasis hidden in the shelter of a magical forest. The trees surrounding the oasis provide shade, but a small bit of light peers in above, and I focus on that. The light blinks, it’s arm's reach out and I reach out too, but I can’t reach it. I frown, reaching and reaching. The light shakes it’s head, tears clouded in their eyes. The light grabs me, hugging me and we share a moment of tears. I beg and beg, but the light just cries. And I cry too. I beg it to take me. Far, far away, I beg. But the light just cries, shaking their head and then dropping me into the pool of water.  _

  
  


“Keith, please, Keith. Are you okay? Are you there? I’m breaking the door down. Please, Keith, please,” Shiro’s voice cries out, his words start trembling and he’s pounding on my door over and over. I lay quiet, listening to each thump. My body feels numb and my eyes roll back, I convulse. I hear Shiro pound again and again. And then it’s quiet. 

When I wake up, I find that I’m in my bed, tucked away safely. I toss around for a second, realizing my clothes are dry. A glass of water is perched on my nightstand. I glance at my window and see that it’s night outside. I sigh, laying back again. I stare up at my ceiling, listening to each tick of my alarm clock until I hear Shiro and Adam’s footsteps in the other room. I blink, running a hand through my knotted hair. After a moment, I muster up the courage to get out of bed. The cheap wooden floors creak as I walk to the kitchen and I almost fall; I’m focusing so much on each step. I turn the corner and my eyes meet Shiro’s, he looks sad. We don’t say anything. I don’t think we know what to say. I see Adam, and I just give him a mere glance, turning to pour myself a cup of coffee. I walk back to my room and set down the mug on my desk. I take a seat and open up my computer. I stare at the black screen for a little while, trying to figure out what I should be doing. Trying to figure out what my purpose even is. 

  
  


—————————————

Precious. Time is so precious. And in so many ways. The easiest way to explain it is to experience it. To experience life. Isn’t it crazy? One moment you’re nothing, and then you’re there. Crying and laughing and then walking and running. One moment you’re accepting a ribbon for winning second place at your elementary school’s science fair and the next you’re walking down the stage of your highschool auditorium, a graduation cap adorned on your head. While each day is so, so slow, the years just flourish by so quickly. It’s like a plant. It starts as a small seed, growing slowly each day — just the slightest bit. And then suddenly, it’s roots have outgrown the pot and the leaves have blossomed luscious flowers.

Lance died 66 years ago. I’m 87 now, and life has been a rough ride. I’ve lost so much, but I’ve come to an age that I’ve realized how much I’ve won. So many people I’ve loved have passed — Lance, Shiro, Allura. When I was younger, I viewed loss as a stab — a curse or something bad. Now, I lay back in a hospital bed, holding onto a box full of letters. I close my eyes, reflecting on all of the beautiful people I’ve met in my lifetime. I reminisce in the memories. I read through a letter dated back years ago, one from April. I remember this one. I smile, thinking back to the younger me reading this. For a while, I had so much regret and hate towards myself for not reaching out to Lance when I returned to Earth. I still am upset at myself, but I’ve let go. I’ve realized it happened, and that I can’t change that. Lance is dead, and I was too late. It took 66 years, but I’ve finally let go. It’s different than moving on. I’m not living out a different life, I’m just seeing the same life in a different lens. For so long, I was trying to hold onto the grasp of Lance when he was already gone. It’s only now that I let go. How can I move forward without letting go? I understand that now. It took my entire life to understand that; I’m in my last few minutes and I feel like I finally just understand. Everything. Why things happen. Paintings painted with pain are always the most beautiful ones. Pictures stained with grief are always the most memorable ones. Words enlanced with trauma are always the most heart wrenching ones. But at the end of the day, they’re all works of art. My life is a work of art, and the masterpiece is almost finished. I decide that for the last few moments, until the artist finishes the masterpiece called Keith, I’ll reminisce. 

—————————————

_ Dear Lance, _

_ You’re dead now. Soon I will be too. My life has been years of me slowly dying, wishing for it to come quicker. And now that it’s almost here, I almost don’t want to go. I think I’m attached -- not to this world but rather the memories I made in this world. It’s not until now that I’m finally understanding how valuable life is -- how each memory and person you meet in life is so special. Life was always going to come to an end, even from the beginning. And it’s only now that I sit and think about that. It’s funny in a way. Sad in another. Lance, I know you’ll never read this or hear my words. You’re gone -- you were gone long ago. But to whomever does read this, I want you to really try and understand. Don’t waste your life not cherishing the moments. Don’t waste your life waiting for death. Don’t waste your life hiding and ashamed. Don’t do what I did. Confess your fears. Reach out to the one you love before it's too late. Cherish your memories with them; Cherish the moment as it happens. Everything in life is so precious. Life itself is precious. So treasure it. I think I know what I want my last words to be. I want you to know -- whoever is reading this -- that there is purpose to your life. No matter your story, a beautiful painting will be created by the end of it. Time is limited. But love,  _

_ love is endless.  _

–––––––––––––––––––––––––

It was spring. The air had a slight breeze that awoke the small hairs on your arms each time you walked outside. The sun shone behind the clouds and a light rain pitter-pattered against the windows of a dingy hospital. A flick of rain struck the window and in that same moment, a long beep sounded from a machine. Keith clutched Lance’s letters. He exhaled. And it was over. The painting was done. The artist finished. And in turn, was a masterpiece. 

——————————————

  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope that after you read this, you begin to find more value in the smaller things. It's always the tiny details from each memory that we remember so vividly. Remember it all. Love it all. The small crack in the glass and the way the red booth peels up at the corner. It's details like that, they add so much to the memory. Remember it, cherish it. It's valuable. Because it's the small, stupid things that make us smile. That remind us of those we love or have loved. It paints a story. A beautiful one. And so, live out each day remembering this. From the beginning, the very moment that you were born, time was going to come to an end and you would perish. So cherish your time here. Treasure the ones you love and the memories. Or if it's too late, reminisce. And let go. Good luck.


End file.
